Holy Smokes!
by Keegan Elizabeth
Summary: What happens when Grissom and Sara start more than one fire? GSR plus Firefighters equals Hotness. Things are officially smokin' now! EPILOGUE is added!
1. Chapter 1

A/N1: A huge thank you to **CSIGeekFan** for the beta.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CSI.

* * *

"911. What's the nature of your emergency?" the operator asked.

"I think I smell smoke coming from my neighbor's townhouse—"

"What's the address, ma'am?"

"241 Belleview Court."

"How many people live there?"

"Two. Two people live there. It used to be just Grissom, that's the guy's name, living there but I think his lady friend moved in permanently—"

"Ma'am?" the operator interrupted. "Do you know if anyone is home?"

"I'm not sure since my neighbors tend to keep somewhat odd hours, but I think I hear music. Oh, God! I don't know what to do. I tried knocking on their door—"

"Stay calm, okay? And please stay on the line. We're dispatching the fire department right now. They should be there shortly."

"Thank you. Please tell them to hurry!"

* * *

A/N2: Yeah, I know…how could I leave it there? Well, I can because the rest is unedited (lol) but I felt like posting the start of a new story that I've been working on...

A/N3: Oh, I made German chocolate cupcakes today for my mom's birthday (am I not sweet?) so I'll send you one virtually along w/ a sneak peek if you would like :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: FIRST, HOLY CRAP! Seriously, I want to thank everyone for the completely unexpected (but much adored) response to the first chapter! You really made my day! And lastly a huge thanks again to **CSIGeekFan** for the beta of this story. All mistakes remaining are mine.

A/N2: This is the first story (minus a couple of drabbles) that I have written in first person, so it's a bit different. Before I get back to why a certain townhouse was on fire, I felt the need to go back in time… hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CSI or the song "A Natural Woman" by Aretha Franklin (although I love it).

* * *

_Earlier…_

When Aretha Franklin's soulful voice came through the stereo of my portable boom box, I grinned. It was one of my favorite songs.

I was currently lying in a bubble bath, relaxing. I had used a liberal amount of lavender and chamomile soap so the sunken bathtub was full of frothy bubbles. My hair was twisted and clipped back, away from my face. I had lit a few of my favorite candles so the rich fragrance of jasmine fused in the air with the lavender, and I had dimmed the lights to the bathroom as well, creating a soothing, sensual atmosphere.

It was nice. It was decadent. And I sure as hell deserved the pampering.

Gil and I had been dating for a year and a half. Three months ago he asked me to move in with him, and I said yes. I think we both felt our relationship was different than any others we may have had in the past. We both wanted to keep the fact that we were together (and now living together) to ourselves. Although we did consider the nightshift crew to be our friends, we were extremely private people. Besides it was nice to have our relationship to ourselves without anyone else knowing. Or, well, it was most of the times.

As I soaked in the tub, I thought about the events of the previous night. Gil was concerned that our coworkers might suspect something –some offhand comment was made by Nick the other day. I told him to not worry about it. Nick hadn't meant anything by it; the nightshift team was completely clueless, I assured him.

However, Gil wasn't entirely convinced; so last night when there was a decomp case he assigned it to me. He was so damn determined to not play favorites.

Before I headed out, I stopped by his office. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that _thing_ that I did for you the other night was supposed to safeguard me from all decomp duty in the future?" I asked.

"Sara," he began, rising from his chair and stepping toward me.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't keep a straight face; he looked so worried that I had to laugh. "Gil, I was just kidding."

When he visibly relaxed, I stepped forward and closed the distance between the two of us. Turning back quickly, I doubled checked to make sure that I locked the door and that the blinds to his office were closed.

After ensuring that we would have privacy, I placed a hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat speed up. His gaze met mine. "Sara, this is dangerous," he said. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"I know. But that makes it all the more exciting, don't you think?" I taunted as my other hand snaked around his neck as I leaned forward to kiss him.

When I playfully tugged and then bit his lower lip, he moaned. I quickly kissed it to make it better (I'm no sadist) until he finally opened his mouth so that my tongue could tease his like I desired.

My hand that was on his chest began making a slow journey southward until it reached its destination. Gil backed up. "Sara, honey…please." I guess it could have been a plea to stop, but I took it as an invitation to continue. He backed up, and I followed until he reached the front of his desk and could go no further.

I picked back up where I left off. I stroked him through the cotton of his trousers, feeling the heat of his arousal. I kept up my teasing for a while before I gave him one final squeeze and a lingering kiss and then stepped back.

"Sara," Gil protested, advancing toward me as I retreated.

I stopped when I reached his office door and placed my hand on the doorknob, ready at any moment to turn the lock and make my escape. "Yes?" I looked at him, face full of innocence.

"I thought…that you weren't angry with me? That you understood why I assigned you decomp duty?" he asked. Truthfully, though, he seemed to be having a difficult time trying to control his rapid breathing.

"Oh, I'm not mad, and I do understand. But it's not you that will have to smell all of that. Life's not always fair," I said, grinning.

"You know what? I never realized that you were so devious, Ms. Sidle."

I felt slightly remorseful since it wasn't exactly his fault. He was just trying to protect our relationship and me. So I stepped toward him again and kissed him leisurely, then whispered in his ear, "I promise to make it up to you when you get home from work. I'll make you feel all better—"

He groaned. "You're killing me here, Sara."

"Sorry, sweetie," I said with a quick grin as I unlocked the door and opened it.

Before I left, Gil quipped, "Don't forget to use lots of lemons!"

As I walked away, I laughed.

The only downside of getting Gil all worked up was that I managed to work myself up in the process as well. When I reached my Denali, I quickly turned the AC on to full blast.

Later, back at the lab, I showered –repeatedly –with lemons. Then, I went in search for Gil. However, he wasn't anywhere to be found. I casually asked Wendy if she had seen him, and she told me that he was still in the field. It was nearly three o'clock already. It looked like he was in for a longer shift than the one I just finished.

I missed him terribly, but I figured it would give me more time to get things ready for what I planned for the night. I didn't want to leave a note on his desk because you never knew who would find it. So, instead, I shot him a quick text message to his cell phone: "The price of lemons have risen dramatically due to sudden scarcity :) Miss you –S."

Driving home (I considered his townhouse home now) a few minutes later, I received his text reply back: "Will immediately buy stock in lemons. Wish I was there with you already. Be home in a few hours, I hope –G."

Thankfully, the lemons succeeded in getting rid of the worst of the stench from the decomp duty, but now I smelled like a freaking lemon air freshener. _Not too sexy._ Therefore, when I got home, I decided that I had enough time to indulge in my favorite guilty pleasure –soaking in a luxurious bubble bath. For my birthday, Gil had gotten me some of my favorite bath soaps and bubbles after he discovered how much I liked them.

Slowly, my mind drifted back to the present. My eyes were closed and I was sitting in the bathtub, enjoying the absolute tranquility of the moment while Aretha sang about love being the key to her peace of mind.

_Cause you make me feel_

_You make me feel_

_You make me feel like a natural woman (woman)_

I wiggled my toes in rhythm with the music. The water was gradually becoming lukewarm, and I felt my fingers were becoming prune-like. Both were signs that it was time for me to get out of the bathtub. Draining the water, I grabbed a towel and began drying off.

_Cause you make me feel_

_You make me feel_

_You make me feel like a natural woman (woman)_

Gil made me feel like a woman all right –a very natural woman. He was definitely amazing. _Damn._ I really wished he was home already so that we could finish what I had unwittingly started in his office last night.

I had always been attracted to him, and I loved him. But our lovemaking…well, it was comparable to some natural disasters. After one night in which Gil kept waking me up to make love, I mentioned to him about his skills in bed. He had replied that it was due to years of pent up sexual desire for me. I had laughed, but it was nice to know that he had been frustrated all those years as well. I just wished he had decided to act on his desires sooner rather than later.

_Oh baby what you've done to me…_

I picked up my hair straightener and began belting out alongside of Aretha. I danced my way to the dresser to take out my clothes for the evening. If I knew that Gil had caught me on more than one occasion dancing and singing, I would have been completely horrified. Not even knowing that he thought I looked both adorable and sexy would have made me feel any better.

_xxx_

I dressed carefully for the evening ahead. I allowed my hair to dry naturally, only using the minimum of product to ensure the best curls. Gil liked it best when I wore my hair curly. I kept my makeup to a minimum as well, not like I ever wore too much. I applied a few quick swipes of mascara to my eyelashes, a hint of blush to add some color to my cheeks, and a bit of gloss to my lips. I dabbed some perfume behind my ears, on my collarbone, and then on my wrists.

Finally, it was time to dress. I had gone shopping the previous weekend for a little something 'special.' When I got home, I had hidden the bag deep in the closet, wanting everything to be a surprise for Gil.

After retrieving the bag out of our closet, I took out my purchases and laid them on the bed. Looking at my outfit for the evening, I grinned. I couldn't wait for Gil to come home so that I could surprise him. _Gil is in for one hell of an evening!_ Next, I carefully tore the tags off of my garments. As I finished dressing and putting on my robe, the clock in the living room chimed five times. _Shit! Where did the time go? He's going to be here soon, and I haven't even begun cooking!_

I was already nervous enough about cooking, as it wasn't exactly my area of expertise and I would readily admit that that itself might be a slight understatement as well.

Usually, Gil cooked, we went out to dinner, or we ordered take-out. I so desperately wanted to make a good home-cooked meal for him -one that he would like, one that a wife would cook for her husband. They did say that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. I just hoped that I wouldn't kill him, by accidental food poisoning, in the process.

As I made my way into the kitchen, my robe flapped open in my haste.

Last weekend I had also poured through pages and pages on the web, trying to locate the 'perfect' meal to cook. It had taken me a while (four hours, to be exact), but I did find it. And I read through every single reader's comments on tips and suggestions on how to prepare the meal (all one-hundred and eleven of them). Seriously, the things that I do to try to impress the man I loved.

My meal for the evening would consist of: Pan-fried oysters along with sauté veggie curry and jasmine rice as the sides. I already had a cheesecake that I had bought, chilling in the refrigerator. I figured that I would keep the fact that dessert was bought a little secret from Gil.

"Emeril, Rachel Ray, and all you other food network chefs that I never watch –eat your hearts out," I thought to myself, grinning. Everything was going to be fine. It would be perfect, in fact. All cooking required was for one to simply follow step-by-step instructions. I could do it. It would be simple, easy as one two three.

Before doing anything cooking related, I found an apron that Gil used when he grills out and put it on so nothing would get on my clothes. If I had thought things through, I would have realized I should have done the cooking (or most of it) before I got dressed. Now, it was too late to worry about changing into some old clothes. _Damn it. _I just hoped I wouldn't make a mess. Since my nerves were close to being shot, I opened the bottle of wine that I had bought for our dinner. I had planned to save it and let Gil open it. But I didn't think that he would begrudge me a glass of wine right now.

Opening the wine, I poured myself half a glass. After taking a couple of sips for some liquid confidence, I began my task at hand.

_Let the Gourmet Cooking 101 lesson begin… _

* * *

A/N3: I offered German Sweet Chocolate cupcakes last time …today's offering: Chewy Chocolate Fudge Brownies and/or Freshly Baked Chocolate Chip Cookies. Nuts are available upon request :) Again like last time dessert along with a sneak peek for those who are so kind to leave a review.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N1: First, I want to thank **CSIGeekFan** for the wonderful beta job. Any mistakes remaining are mine. Also I want to thank everyone who has decided to check out Holy Smokes! All the comments have been greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: Non, je ne possède pas CSI. That's French for "No, I do not own CSI" (at least it is according to the cool Babel Fish Translation web page). Also I claim no ownership of the song, "Brass in Pocket."

* * *

_An indeterminate amount of time later…_

"HI, HONEY…I'M HOME!" I heard Gil yelling over the music that I had playing.

I quickly took off my apron and tossed it aside before I headed to greet him. I glanced into the mirror I passed by to assess the damage I had done to my appearance while cooking. After wiping off a bit of flour that was on my cheek, I looked again. _Not too bad._ Taking a deep breath, I finally neared the front door's entrance and saw Gil with his back to me. He looked so gorgeous. _Shouldn't it be illegal to look that good?_ Out loud, I said, "Hi. I'm glad you're home," unaware that my voice had grown raspy.

Gil stilled immediately at the sound of my voice and then resumed his task –taking out his keys, his change, and his wallet –before turning around to face me.

I was standing before him barefoot, wearing a red silk robe that was currently tied. The robe flowed gently over my curves, stopping at mid-thigh.

If I could have read his thoughts, then I would have known that he was wondering how the hell had he managed to get so lucky to have me in his life. "What's all this?" he questioned aloud as he walked closer, drawing near to me. He sniffed the air, once then twice. "And you're cooking, too?"

"I thought I would," I leaned in to kiss him, "surprise," followed be another kiss, "you."

"You definitely succeeded, honey," he said. "I do feel a bit overdressed though—"

I became distracted when I recognized the opening melody playing through my boom box in the living room. While I was cooking, I had kept the music playing for entertainment. I smiled, wickedly, as an idea came into my mind when The Pretenders song came on. "Come here," I demanded as I grabbed his hand and led him into the living room. When Gil was standing in front of the couch, I gently shoved him until he fell backwards onto the couch. He straightened and sat up as I made my way to the center of the living room and to the center of his attention.

_Gonna make you, make you, make you notice_

I picked up on the chorus and began singing along.

_Gonna use my arms_

I untied the sash to my robe and, shrugging my shoulders, I let it fall to my feet. Underneath my robe, I was wearing a pair of barely there red lacy panties and a matching bra in the same color.

Hearing Gil's sharply drawn breath fueled my courage to continue my impromptu strip tease. My loose inhibitions might also have something to do with the two glasses of wine that I had consumed earlier on a nearly empty stomach.

_Gonna use my legs_

I began dancing to the music, trying to be as seductive as I could be.

_Gonna use my style_

I teasingly tucked my thumbs under my panties to make as if I was going to take them off. I looked at Gil's hopeful face and just shook my head. I swear I could hear him sigh over the music.

_Gonna use my sidestep_

I made my way to the couch and knelt between his legs.

_Gonna use my fingers_

Rising a bit and leaning forward, I unbuttoned his shirt while I stared up at Gil. He didn't say anything at all. His eyes held mine as I pushed his shirt down his shoulders and off. I tossed it haphazardly to the side, not really caring where it landed.

_Gonna use my, my, my imagination_

I stood up and surprised him by sitting in his lap before I dragged his mouth to mine. Using my hands, I worked to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants.

"Slow down, honey," he finally said when my hands wandered their way to inside his boxers.

"Mmm…no, don't want to …want you," I said in between kisses.

Breaking away from my kiss, he stood and quickly disposed of his pants, leaving him standing before me in just his boxers.

_Damn, he looks sexy._

Before I could demand that he return to me, he sat down and captured my lips again in a long, rough kiss.

Our hands explored each other's bodies, filling the air with moans and whimpers for more.

"You are so beautiful—" he murmured against my throat where he had been busy kissing me. "You smell…heavenly…I just need to taste you—" he mumbled, pressing me back into the couch and into the cushions, his body covering mine.

The feel of his chest, pressing against me made me moan out loud. "More—" I whispered as I reclaimed his lips, teasing his tongue with mine. "I need you…I want you, now."

"Yes," he agreed, staring down at me. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing shallow and ragged. My face was flushed; my mouth was swollen from his earlier assault. I lifted my hand to caress his cheek and then let it fall back down to stroke his back. His hands reached under me, focused on unclasping my bra, when I thought that I heard a crashing noise. I was enjoying Gil's ministrations too much to care and moaned in approval when his tongue…

"This is the Las Vegas Fire Department! Is anyone injured?" a voice yelled, drawing nearer and effectively breaking through my sensual fog. _What the hell?_ That was when I finally realized that I smelled smoke, and I heard sirens. _Oh my God._ I pushed Gil off –it took a few tries. When he sat up, I saw two firefighters while three others walked toward the kitchen. _Oh, shit!_ I hadn't turned the burners on the stove off. _Oh, holy freaking shit!_ I also recalled what I was wearing, which was basically nothing. _Oh, shit! OH, SHIT!_ My mind, seriously, could not come up with anything else to think and, well, it described the situation pretty clearly. I quickly yanked Gil back down on top of me, to cover me. I didn't have to look in a mirror to know that my face was red, lobster red in fact. _Oh, my God._ And Gil, well Gil, was pretty shocked speechless apparently since he wasn't saying anything at all –or maybe it was because all the blood was still located further south. Either way, he needed to say something. _Damn it to hell!_

One of the firefighters spoke, "Um, excuse me, ma'am—"

"Yes?" was my muffled reply as I was trying to hide my burning face by pressing it into Gil's chest.

"I have your robe—"

_Oh, God…the one that I had discarded in the middle of the floor…along with my self-respect…great. Just great._

He continued, "Er, I can give it to you if you want?"

My arm shot out quickly from beneath Gil's chest in response and made as if grabbing for it. When I felt the silk touch my fingers, I closed my fingers over it and breathed a mental sigh of relief.

Gil spoke up. _Finally, he regained his voice._ _Good job, sweetie…took you long enough!_ "Um, could you gentlemen maybe step away for a few seconds to give my girlfriend some privacy?" he asked, lifting his head to look at them.

"Of course, sir."

I gave them a few seconds to walk away before I shoved Gil off of me, causing him to fall to the floor. "Ouch!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry. I'm sorry…for everything. I'm seriously freaking out right now, Gil." _I cannot believe that this is happening…to us…to me! _I quickly sat up and threw on the robe before standing and securing it tightly while Gil grabbed his pants to put on.

I could hear the firefighters in the kitchen, and I could smell the scent of burning wood from our kitchen cabinets. One of the firefighters yelled that they had almost contained the fire. _Oh, thank you!_ And he also yelled that the cause of the fire was an apron that had landed on the burner (_oh, shit!_), which had caught on fire, and the flames had then spread. _Oh, dear God._ Gil and I had been completely oblivious while our kitchen was catching on fire…

Together, Gil and I faced the firefighters that were standing in the living room. Did it make it worse that both of them were younger than the two of us? And that one of them did not even look a day older than eighteen?

_Oh, God…the humiliation…it really, truly could not get any worse…_

"Holy smokes!" a male voice exclaimed; a very familiar male voice.

_Why did I even tempt the fates? Why…oh, why…what did I do to deserve this?_

Gil and I turned at the same time to find Greg standing in the hallway to our home. The folders that he had been holding fell as he continued to stare at the two of us.

He repeated, "Holy smokes—" with his jaw open and his eyes huge. "You and Grissom…you…the boss man…together…oh, holy freaking smokes!" Greg continued to babble.

"I would think for someone so intelligent that he could think of something else to say." Gil looked at me to get my opinion. "Wouldn't you agree, honey?"

For a moment, I just stared at him. He called me 'honey' –in front of Greg. That was against the rules. It was a strict rule: no pet names in front of coworkers. However, looking down at my attire and then over at Gil, I amended mentally that our cover had just gone up in flames. _Er, bad joke…_

If there ever was a time that I wished the floor would just open up and swallow me whole, then this sure as hell qualified as one of those times.

I was the lone female in a room of four…no, wait seven men (three more came back from where they had been fighting the kitchen fire). Greg still had a semi-stunned look on his face. The firefighters …some were covered in sweat and soot, some were trying hard not to smile, and some had lost the good fight and were wearing a full fledge grin. I _so_ wanted to wipe those grins off their faces, except that they had saved us from fiery doom –that had to be taken into consideration. _Damn it._

All I was trying to do was cook a home-cooked meal for the man that I loved, and it turned into this flaming disaster. I was trying to make this a special night for Gil…damn it, it's his fault! "If you weren't so sexy, then I would have remembered to turn off the stovetop," I accused.

"If you weren't so beautiful, then I would have remembered to remind you that you had dinner cooking! You're the one who started your little strip tease—"

Becoming aware (because of the barely restrained chuckles we heard) that we weren't exactly alone, we both looked over to find Greg and the rest of the firefighters grinning.

Gil and I looked back at each other and apparently came to the same decision. We both started to smile, causing the others in the room to probably question our sanity. But truly what else could we do? It was either start smiling or start crying…

"We're never going to live this down," Gil said.

"Yeah, let's move to some tropical island…change our names to Lucy and Desi," I suggested.

Gil began laughing, and I quickly joined in. Before long, we fell into a fit of giggles and into each other's arms.

We barely managed to speak, choking on the laughter that kept threatening to escape.

"If you can't take the heat—"

"…only in Vegas."

"…banned from the kitchen—"

We dissolved into helpless laughter again, barely able to catch our breath while tears streamed down our faces. We had to hold each other up because on our own we couldn't stand without doubling over in laughter.

At some point, Greg and the firemen apparently left. I vaguely recalled their goodbyes. Gil and I were too wrapped up in each other (which is how the fire started in the first place) to notice. They must have let themselves out, but it wasn't like they hadn't found their way inside in the first place.

After another ten minutes, we managed to control ourselves, and we made our way to the kitchen to assess the damage. Gil and I stood outside the entryway into the kitchen, shocked and speechless. One entire half of the kitchen was charred.

Finally, I found my voice and whispered, almost reverently, "Holy freaking smokes!" Greg's little phrase seemed like an apt enough description to me. And when the Talking Head's song "Burning Down the House" filtered through from the living room, Gil and I once more dissolved into a fit of giggles.

* * *

A/N2: I hope you enjoyed the insanity of Holy Smokes! For those who read Memories we can now add "kitchen fire" to the list of things that prevent Grissom and Sara being together (in my stories) lol...gotta love creativity?

A/N3: Lastly, this was written originally as a one-shot that I turned into a multi-chapter fic. This is the end of what I had written; however, I'm curious to know if anyone would be interested in me writing an epilogue of sorts? Let me know. Reviews are always welcomed, never turned away.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A huge thanks to **CSIGeekFan** for taking the time to beta this for me. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

A/N2: It's here! It's here! Finally! The epilogue of _Holy Smokes! _is here!

Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, then it would no longer be called CSI. It would be called something like _CSI Geeklove: Grissom and Sara_. So therefore since the show is still called CSI, then you have correctly deduced that I have no ownership of the aforementioned show (much to my dismay).

* * *

It took about thirty more minutes for the adrenaline from the situation to wear off and for Gil and I to appreciate the full extent of what had just happened. For us to realize what it meant for our relationship and for our future.

I found my cell phone as quickly as I could and shot off a short message: "Susie's Diner twelve o'clock. Do NOT talk to anyone!"

_xxx_

_The next day…_

Gil and I arrived at Susie's fifteen minutes early. I had dressed carefully for the meeting, wearing my favorite shirt and pair of jeans. I needed the extra boost of confidence since I felt that I was about to make a deal with the—

_Oh, speak of the devil!_

Gil had been trying to convince me all morning to not worry about things. That everything would be okay. That everything would be just fine. However, I wasn't quite certain, as Greg was known to be unpredictable.

Greg spotted the two of us immediately. He made his way over and took a seat. "Grissom. Sara," he said in greeting with a large smile. "I assume that you didn't set anything else on fire last night?"

_Be nice. Be nice. REMEMBER: BE NICE!_ I repeated the words to myself like a mantra. Under the table, Gil linked our fingers together and gave my hand a quick squeeze. I made myself smile. Honestly. I couldn't help it if my smile happened to look more like a grimace. "Thank you for your concern, Greg. We did manage to keep from causing more fires," I replied.

"That's good."

"So—" I began.

"So—" Greg seconded.

We stared at each other (in a silent battle of wills, neither of us willing to be the first to blink or to say anything more) until Gil spoke up and took over. "So, Sara and I would appreciate it if you would keep the fact that you know about us to yourself, Greg."

For a few moments, Greg was silent. "No one else knows then?" he questioned a second later.

"No," I answered.

"So, can I ask you guys a few questions?" he inquired. After Gil and I didn't immediately respond, he continued, "It's only fair, I think."

I looked at Gil, and with only our eyes we held a brief conversation and came to an agreement. He released my hand and brought his arm around me. I inched closer to him. _Might as well get comfortable…_

"Okay." I nodded toward Greg to give him the go ahead to ask his questions.

Greg leaned back, settling against the vinyl cushion of the booth to relax as well. "How long have the two of you been dating?"

"A year and a half," I answered.

I could see Greg's agile mind thinking –working back, past the dates. Understanding dawned in his eyes. "After Nick's abduction?"

"Yes," I replied quietly. "Soon after." He didn't need to know details.

"So, you're living together now? Is that correct?"

I paused a moment before I responded. "Yes."

"How long?"

Gil answered. "I asked Sara to move in about three months ago."

Greg digested the new information.

"This isn't the Spanish Inquisition, Greg," I reminded him, before he could ask his next question.

"I know," he replied.

Silence pervaded for the next few moments. I sincerely hoped that Greg was satisfied. Apparently, I was hoping for too much.

"So…how did that fire start anyway?" Greg asked with a smirk.

I looked at Gil, horrified and trying very hard not to blush. Finally, I said, "You know what? I'm not answering any more questions—"

"Hmmm. I wonder if Catherine is awake at this time yet?" Greg thought out loud. "Although even if she wasn't already up and I did manage to wake her, I don't really think she would stay mad at me once I told her what I knew…right?"

_He wouldn't. Would he?_

"Greg, what do you want from us to not tell?" Gil asked.

"Hmmm." Greg smiled wickedly. "Oooh, I know!!" A couple of seconds later, he said, "Nah. Not good enough." Another few moments passed before he exclaimed, "I got it!" and rubbed his hands together in glee only to be followed by him saying, "No, never mind," and shaking his head.

"Greg—" I began before he interrupted me.

"Oh, oh! Awesome. Yes, baby! Brilliant! I got it. I know what I want—"

Gil and I sat, watching and waiting (on pins and needles) for Greg to explain what he required to stay silent.

Then, he ruined everything by saying, "Crap. That won't work."

Gil and I shared a mutual look of exasperation; still we remained seated because we were determined to play nice.

Fifteen minutes passed, and I couldn't handle it any longer. I was beyond frustrated and annoyed with Greg. Apparently, patience was definitely _not_ one of my virtues that I had in spades. "Greg, I'm done. I don't care. Call Catherine. Call the boys. I just _don't _care! It's going to be your word against Gil's and mine. They're not going to believe you," I said, faking confidence that I truly was not feeling, as I got up from the booth and turned to walk away.

Gil was scooting over to follow me when Greg called out, "Oh. Did I not mention that I took pictures?"

I stopped. Gil stopped. I turned around and walked slowly back to the table, my stomach dropping each step I took. Standing in front of the booth, I asked in a strained voice, "How?"

"Got to love technology these days… cell phones with cameras. Seriously, it's freaking genius!" Greg replied, smiling.

When Gil moved back over to his side of the booth, I sat back down. "So, you took pictures?" Yeah, I know …not the most genius thing to say at the moment. But, in my defense, Greg had just thrown me a freaking curveball.

"Pictures, yes. And video as well… you would be surprised by the quality of sound that cell phones can pick up—"

"You're bluffing," I stated calmly. He had to be bluffing. _God, he just had to be…_

"Am I?" Greg responded back, smirking.

"Where's the cell phone, Greg? The evidence we could see?" Gil asked patiently. I knew there was a reason I loved him. I could trust Gil to ask for proof and to think logically while I was sitting and wondering how I could get away with strangling Greg. _Surely, no judge would convict me of murder…right?_

"The cell phone is not with me," Greg began.

I scoffed. "Of course not."

"Hey, I'm not afraid to admit that I might be a little scared of you, Sara. So, anyway I have the cell phone in a safe place—"

I did not know whether to believe him or not. I thought back to the events of last night, and I had to admit to myself that I honestly had no clue what Greg could have gotten on video because Gil and I had been a bit wrapped up in each other.

Greg could see that I was thinking. "Don't want to risk it, right?" he questioned a moment later.

I sighed. "What do you want, Greg? Just spit it out. No beating around the bush or anything because I cannot handle it," I warned.

"Well," he began solemnly. "After _much_ thoughtful consideration and painful deliberation, I think I have decided what would be just and fair compensation—"

Gil squeezed my hand in sign of support, and I gave him a small smile in return.

"I think that you and Grissom in payment for me to keep my mouth shut –and I do feel that I _really_ must interject here that this will be extremely hard to do and it might possibly be emotionally draining for me at times –that you two should—" Greg paused dramatically.

I glared at him.

He swallowed once before he quickly resumed what he had been saying. "That you two should name your first born son after me." Greg leaned back, arms crossed against his chest and a smile on his face.

Gil spoke up. "Okay. Done."

I turned immediately to face Gil, and I was speechless. Literally. We hadn't talked about kids. I didn't even know that he wanted kids… I didn't know if I wanted kids… holy hell! I'm freaking out… oh, my God. _Take a deep breath, Sara… deep breath… oh, holy freaking smokes! _

Greg got up from the table. I still hadn't spoken a word. Gil was beginning to look at me, concerned. To be honest, it might have a little something to do with the fact that my eyes were wide and my mouth was still hanging half open. "I see my work is done here and that you two need to talk," Greg declared happily before he began to beat box. "Oh, can't touch this! Oh, can't touch this!" he sang as he moonwalked his way to the exit and out of Susie's Diner.

FIN

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A/N3: So, I hope you enjoyed the ending of _Holy Smokes!_ I had a LOT of fun writing the story and this ending, so I hope that I managed to make you smile and/or laugh along the way. You know how you feel when you go the mall and find that little black dress (b/c every girl needs one…or well hmm four) that fits you perfectly and then you find out that it's on sale, too? Well, that's how I feel when I get reviews lol...so, um, go make my day? Please?


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